


Merlin, dogsitter extraordinaire

by elletromil



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Merlin-centric, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:10:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3680916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All through his childhood, he has had dogs and he’s always enjoyed their company and unconditional love. Then he had left for college where he just hadn’t had enough space to keep one and after being recruited into Kingsman he had just been too busy to even think about welcoming one puppy into his life and training him or her accordingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merlin, dogsitter extraordinaire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SallySkellington18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SallySkellington18/gifts).



> So I already had the personal headcanon that Merlin was the one looking after the Kingsman’s dogs when they were on mission and then SallySkellington18 left a comment on I’m not calling you a ghost on AO3 about how seeing Merlin as a super dogsitter would something the fandom might enjoy, which is why I'm gifting this t you. Hope you like it.
> 
> Also, unsurprisingly there’s a bit of background Percilot and a bit of you-can-see-it-as-Hartwin-if-you-want in this.

“Merlin, I have an enormous favor to ask of you. Feel free to refuse, of course, it would be perfectly understandable if you did so. I mean…”

If Merlin had been more of a cruel man, he would have let the so ill-at-ease agent continue to ramble through his request, but the things is, he genuinely likes Harry Hart and seeing him so uncertain when he’s usually so unflappable is simply unbearable. Most probably the other man thinks it is above a gentleman to ask for any kind of help, but he obviously stepped on his pride to come to Merlin and something like this demands respect.

“What is it?”

Harry seems relieved to have been stopped, that Merlin doesn’t hesitate to go straight to the point, flashing him a quick smile. “As you know, my next assignment is to be of an undetermined length,” which yes, Merlin knows indeed since he’s to be Galahad’s handler for this mission, “and I just don’t feel comfortable asking my neighbor to look after Mr. Pickle for an unknown duration as I’ve done in the past. I was wondering if you would be amenable to take care of him for me?”

To say Merlin is surprised would be an understatement. He would never have imagined in a thousand years that a Kingsman agent would put so much trust in him. Because that’s precisely what it is, Harry telling him that he trusts Merlin. Not only to guide him through the motions of his mission, but to take care of what is currently the most important thing in his life outside Kingsman. Harry would implicitly trust Merlin with his canine companion and the man only feels humbled at the thought of it.

That only would have been enough to make Merlin decide, but he can’t deny there’s another factor in play. All through his childhood, he has had dogs and he’s always enjoyed their company and unconditional love. Then he had left for college where he just hadn’t had enough space to keep one and after being recruited into Kingsman he had just been too busy to even think about welcoming one puppy into his life and training him or her accordingly.

But he’s seen the Knights with their dogs and he knows that one could probably not ask for more well-behaved pets.

“Yes, of course Harry. It would be my pleasure.”

The other man smiles, relief clear in his eyes.

As they leave together that night in order for Merlin to pick-up Mr. Pickle and his things at Harry’s, he realises quite suddenly that he most probably just made a friend.

~

Unsurprisingly, he has a great time with Mr. Pickle.

The dog turns out to be much like his owner in character, calm and obedient, but easily excitable when comes the time to play. Of course, his antics are a lot less deadly than Harry’s when he needs to resort to violence for a mission, but as he looks on Galahad’s feed while he’s disposing of some guards, he has no trouble imagining him with a tail wiggling happily in a similar manner as when he plays tug-of-war with Mr. Pickle.

When Harry completes his mission, Merlin cannot repress the disappointment he feels. It was nice having the company of the dog, nice to go to bed with Mr. Pickle already lying on his doggy bed, looking expectantly towards him until Merlin would gave in and patted the covers in invitation for the terrier to hop on the mattress with him. He thinks Harry must also be similar in this aspect to the terrier. He might not be the most affectionate man, but in a private setting, given half the chance, Merlin suspects Harry would the most attentive of friend.

He’s proven right when he’s invited to dinner at the agent’s home as a thank you and treated to one of the best steak he’s ever eaten.

He’s quite pleased when Harry asks him to look after Mr. Pickle from now on when he has to go away on mission.

*

Bors comes to him one afternoon and looks him in the eyes for what must be the longest minute in Merlin’s life so far. He’s not usually easily intimidated, or else he wouldn’t have made it far into Kingsman, but when a trained killer, one that has a good head on you, weights probably twice what you do and could probably kill you only by blowing on you, stares at you dead in the eye it’s only natural to break into a cold sweat and try to remember everything you might have done wrong in your life so far.

That he nods and breaks into a tight smile afterwards does nothing to reassure Merlin.

“Forgive me for being so forward, but I’ve heard you’ve been looking after Galahad’s dog when he’s going on mission, and I was wondering if I could ask you to look after my Fluffy?” It’s so totally outside the realms of what he could have expected from the situation that he doesn’t even feel relief. “Now, before you tell me your answer, you need to take into consideration that Fluffy just went through a surgery and given his age the vet told me he’s not quite out of the wood yet. I’d hate to put you in a situation you’d be uncomfortable with, but I also doesn’t have anyone else I can ask.”

Of course, he perfectly understands what Bors is telling him, that there’s a high possibility that the dog he’s being asked to look after might pass away while in his care. But truthfully, that’s only all the more reasons for Merlin to accept doing this favor for the agent. If the affectionate St Bernard he’s seen a few times trailing after Bors on the grounds is to be living his last days, then Merlin cannot bear the thought of leaving his well-being into the hands of _strangers_.

“I’ll look after him.”

Merlin doesn’t feel as if he’s done anything to deserve Bors’ grateful smile yet.

~

Fluffy doesn’t pass away under his care that time.

Fluffy actually gets to enjoy two more years of life.

It’s a month more than what Bors gets.

*

Merlin is working on creating an identity for Bedivere’s next mission while keeping an eye out for hostiles on Galahad’s feed, Geraint’s Bella slumbering under his chair.

He’s quite concentrated on his task, but that doesn’t stop him from putting the business end of his gun to Mordred’s head seconds before his hand is going to make contact with the Labrador’s fur. “Don’t.”

“Wow there Merlin! Calm down. I just want to pet her, I won’t harm her.”

Mordred’s indignant tone makes him look up from his work, his eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Mordred. First rule with dogs you do not know. You. Do. Not. Pet. Them. Without. Permission.” He’s enunciating as slowly as possible, like he would do for a really stupid intern. Not that any intern has ever been more of an idiot than Mordred, a fact the man proves yet again when he opens his mouth to argue.

“Ah, come on Merlin, it’s not like I’ve never seen the dog and she’s resting-”

“She’s a Kingsman’s dog, she’s currently on grounds she recognizes as “working” ones. That she’s resting is reason more not to startle her.” He smiles when Bella chooses that moment to start growling at the man Merlin is still pointing his gun at.

Stupid as he might be, Mordred still knows when he has lost, so he quickly turns around, sulkily going back to his desk. Merlin waits until he’s sat down before holstering his firearm, taking a moment to scratch the top of Bella’s head before going back to work.

“Good girl.”

*

“Ah, Merlin! My congratulations for your promotion.” There’s only sincerity in Hector’s voice when they meet by chance in the kitchen at HQ. Even his smile seems to be genuine and Merlin cannot help but answer with one of his own, albeit one a bit tenser.

It isn’t that he’s not proud to have been chosen as the new head of Merlin’s branch after the retirement of the last one, because he is. However, he also doesn’t understand why he was the one promoted in the role. He’s one of the youngest in the department, having started barely three years ago. His work is exemplary of course, but so is the work of many of his coworkers.

Mr Pickle’s head bumping gently against his shin distracts him momentarily from the agent and with a chuckle he goes back to filling a bowl with water before setting it on the ground for the terrier. “I haven’t forgotten about you Mr Pickle. Here’s your water.”

As he straightens up from the ground, butnot before giving the terrier a good rubbing, he looks up only to be met by Hector’s affectionate gaze.

“And this is why if you ask any of us Knights what we think of your promotion, you’ll get the same answer.” The older man laugh at Merlin’s confusion, before going on. “Merlin, we do not only trust you with our _lives_ , we trust you with the well-being of our most precious companions.”

He had made the same observation when he had started looking after Harry’s dog, but never really thought about it again. There’s no denying it though. Somehow, over the three years he’s been with Kingsman, he’s become the go-to dogsitter of all the Knights.

“Not only we can depend on you, but you never ask for anything in return.” His insulted look earns him a chuckle. “We trust you because your good work is a not a product of your pride. You do your best because you _care_.”

Not that the others members of Merlin’s branch don’t care, but he thinks he understands. They will all put the mission’s objective as the highest priority, and so does he, but Merlin will rack his brains to make sure they all come back more or less in one piece at HQ.

He doesn’t always succeed, spy business is dangerous business, and he’s not an overly emotional man, but he doesn’t stay unaffected either. He was the one to took Fluffy in after the late Bors’ demised and he now understand that he couldn’t have gained the Knights’ respect better if he had tried.

“Thank you,” he ends up saying, because there’s frankly nothing else to say.

*

Somehow he should have predicted that James would come to him before his first mission, his Collie trailing after him, both with the same puppy-eyed look.

He really shouldn’t accept, he’s already going to have his hands full with Percival’s Serenity, whose name is misleading at best. He shudders to think about Gunshot’s personality. He’s not sure his furniture is going to survive the onslaught brought by the two dogs combined efforts.

However, Merlin has never refused an agent before and he won’t be starting now. Maybe the Collie’s name will be as misleading as the Beagle’s, but Merlin is not holding his breath. He’s never that lucky.

~

He’s looking at the feed from Percival and Lancelot’s joint mission and he has to smirk at how their interactions slowly get tinged with flirty teasing.

“Fifty quid they’ll be fucking by the end of it.” Half-hearted teasing is usually not enough for him to bet, but he’s also basing his bet on the two dogs lying at his feet.

He had been pleasantly surprised the day before when after a walk in the park with the dogs, Gunshot had been tranquil the rest of the evening, a calming influence on the otherwise excitable Serenity. Had he not known their respective owner, he would have swear Gunshot was Percival’s and Serenity Lancelot’s.

The other technicians are quick to take the bet, because no way Lancelot isn’t grating on Percival’s nerves right now, you only have to look at the looks he keeps throwing him.

Harry, who had come down to collect some document or another, just take one look at the two resting dogs, curled together under Merlin’s desk and snorts derisively.

“No bet for me. And really Merlin, you shouldn’t be betting when you have such an unfair advantage.”

Merlin is not above sticking is tongue out at the agent, Harry’s laugh at his antics drowning out the groans of the technicians.

If Galahad isn’t betting against Merlin, than it means he’s right.

~

Merlin makes a little fortune and buys Gunshot and Serenity new toys.

*

The door opens on a disheveled Harry Hart, his eyes puffy and red.

Before he can say anything, Merlin shoves a bottle of scotch in his hands.

“Thought you might want some company.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, but he moves out of the way to let Merlin come in.

They finish the bottle that night, as well as several others.

Their toasts are all in honor of the late Mr. Pickle.

~

Merlin never says anything about the stuffed dog.

And if he’s pat Mr. Pickle a couple of time on the head, well, no one needs to know.

*

His gun is trained on the intruder before he truly registers their footstep.

“Ah shucks, sorry Merlin, didn’t think you’d be here.”

Kay is already turning back to leave the room and Merlin sighs.

“Come back Kay, there’s plenty of them for two.”

He might have wanted a moment for himself, but he cannot bring himself to really mind his interrupted peace when Kay lies down on the floor with him and smiles blissfully once Merlin dumps half of the puppies on his chest.

They stay that way for a while, the comfortable silence only broken by the gentle yips of the puppies they’re buried under.

Without consulting the other, they both get up at the same time, settling the puppies on the floor with care.

Merlin doesn’t miss the wistful pats Kay give to the Doberman and refrains from sighing.

“You know, we’ve got one more puppy than we have candidates. I know you’ve just lost Sherry, but-”

There’s no chance for Merlin to finish, Kay already scooped up the small Doberman in his arms, affectionately scratching under his chin.

“Hello Whiskey, what do you say we blow this joint so papa can show you your new home?”

The dog yips, as if in agreement, and Merlin has to laugh at Kay’s looks of pure delight when the newly named Whiskey starts licking all over his face.

*

Lately, Merlin has more dogs to take care of than he has agents and his heart clenches every time they do something to remind him of his fallen friends.

JB should be a bright distraction to all this gloom, but he can’t help but think Mr. Pickle and him would have been the best of pals, they’re so similar in character. JB is a bit more demanding in attention and praises, much like his owner needs to be explicitly told he’s done good unlike the former Galahad.

He wishes Harry would have been there to see just how good his boy has become.

~

He’s reading through reports, all his agents’ feeds open in case they suddenly need something from him, his hand absent-mindedly petting JB who’s resting on his lap, when his cellphone rings.

That in itself isn’t so strange, but the number displayed on the screen is not one he’s used to and he cannot for the life of him think of anyone who would call him from the US.

“Yes?” he finally answer briskly, already tracing the call.

“Ah, Merlin, I’m relieved to hear you. I had feared the worst when I learned of the latest events… Do you think you could spare the resources to come and get me?”

“You… you… lucky _bastard_.”

The trace pings, an address in Kentucky flashing on the screen.

*

“It looks like we have more puppies than we need,” the newly appointed Arthur remarks calmly and Merlin smirks.

“Nope, we have just enough, this one is for you.”

And without ceremony he dumps the small terrier in his friend’s lap, smiling when Eggsy starts sniggering at Harry’s surprised look.

It’s far past time the boy loses his sour expression.

*

He’s walking around HQ grounds with Queen, Roxy’s poodle and a small laugh escape him when he’s joined by Harry who has JB and Lady trotting behind him quite happily.

“I see you’ve finally seriously spoken with Eggsy.”

Harry doesn’t dignify the observation by any answer, just shoves Merlin’s shoulder without any heat behind the action.

~

Merlin doesn’t dog-sit JB anymore, but that’s okay. The dog is obviously happier with Harry.

*

“Here.”

He looks up from the computer he’s dismantling to see Roxy handing him a leash. Attach to it is a German shepherd puppy he’s seen trailing after every agents at least once in the last few months. It was of course intriguing, but he’s been too busy to investigate. That and no one in Merlin’s branch seemed to know what was going on and Merlin has long since given up trying to understand Knights’ related craziness.

“And who is the lucky owner of this precious…”

“Elixir,” supplies the young woman and her shit-eating grin is putting him on edge, “and she’s yours.”

Merlin stammers a bit at this because, no, he doesn’t have the time to look after a puppy, does she thinks his job allows him any free time?

“Merlin, you always have at least one dog with you at any given time. It’s high time one of those is yours. And she’s already all trained up, we’ve made sure of it.”

And suddenly it’s quite clear why Elixir was always with a different agent. They were training her for him and making sure she was used to their dogs’ presence and maybe Merlin is tearing up a bit.

“I… erm… I mean, you, I-” he coughs a little to clear up his throat before starting over. “Tell them all thank you for me, please?”

Roxy’s grin soften and she nods solemnly. “Will do.”

She leaves after that, closing the door behind her.

And if Merlin slides down to the floor so he can play a bit with Elixir, the shepherd yipping excitedly, her tail thumping the floor, well, he deserved a break once in a while, doesn’t he?


End file.
